The Sunset of Edward Elric
by spitfire00
Summary: When it's your time, your survival is rarely under your own control. Unless your Edward Elric.


**I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.**

**First fanfiction ever. Sorry for any mistakes. Kinda dark, but I dunno, I'm not very happy with it. I might rewrite it later.  
**Edward Elric knew of death well. He knew of its terrible timing. He knew of its choking claws. He knew how it loved to cause a ripple of agony among the ones he loved. He had sat at its doorway on many occasions, and had even advanced through its broad gate to experience the sorrow of the end. He had been captured by death's fingers on more then one account, swirling in a trap of self pity for a seemingly never ending era. Yes, Edward knew death quite well indeed.

Yet now, as he bled out with no one to keep him company except his own demons, death seemed unreal. He knew this was the end, he knew this feeling quite well after all, yet... it wasn't exactly something he could grasp.

He knew how this tragic tale would end, his body would be found laying undignified and sloppy, coated in his own blood. His eyes would be open, fire still burning. Even death couldn't quench those flames of shear determination and hope. Golden orbs offering his mourners a small amount of comfort, bidding the idea that he went out fighting, in which he had.

The boy figured it would surely rain, judging by the brewing clouds swirling above him. Turning his head on the bloodied bed of grass, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears, he focused his blurry vision on the majestic range of shadows flung to earth by the few orange hues of the setting sun that managed to seep through the darkening sky. The oranges and reds seemed to paint a never ending pattern across the mountains. It was a truly gorgeous view. Edward wished deeply that he had discovered it long before his time. Though he supposed that if he were allowed to choose his deathbed, he would pick a place like this. There was a nice little town nearby, and it was smack dab in between Central and East City, so visiting home and his friends would be convenient...

_Funny... as I'm dying, I'm making plans about my future... denial much?_

And maybe that would explain why death felt so unreal, he knew death well and it was most definitely happening, yet he couldn't simply apprehend it. Either his mind was physically rejecting the idea that he would be no more, or maybe it was a part of his soul that was not too excited to meet the gate again.

_Or maybe I'm freaking human and I don't want to die._

The boy couldn't help but notice how increasing difficult it was becoming to think, how his heart seemed to dull, how the ringing in his ears grew. He tried to move, but just as the last time he tried to staunch the flow of blood from his chest, he couldn't. His entire being was completely numb, and the fact that he could no longer function caused him to question if he was alive at all anymore. Yet he could still see the beautiful oranges and reds of the sun, and if he really tried, he could smell the faint scent of the meadow he was currently coating crimson.

Edward tried to think of his beautiful baby brother, and Al just _had_ to push on. Alphonse just _had_ to. Ed's death could not mean the death of that pure little boy.

_Though, he's not that little anymore is he? He's seen all the horrors I have, despite the Truth. And technically he saw it, he just doesn't remember. He's only a year younger then I am, and that isn't enough to be considered significant. Oh god Al... please forgive me... I never meant to leave you alone... _

His chances of being discovered where slim. This mission had really gone to hell quickly, and while it was probable he was being searched for, detection was next to impossible before he passed through the gate. He actually wouldn't be surprised if Mustang pulled Hughes into the search, since the man was nearby and smart enough to speed up the rescue process. This offered Edward a small amount of comfort. While Mustang was a whiz with words and manipulation, comfort wasn't his specialty. Hughes would be able to keep Al alive, Ed was positive of it.

Soon it became more and more challenging to breath air into his mutilated chest. Edward found himself choking on nothing. Or maybe it was the blood rising in his throat, because a slash of maroon colored his vision momentarily before he blinked it away. He tried to focus on the reds and oranges, the sweet smelling meadow, but panic swept in quickly.

Most people describe bleeding out as a slow painful death in which the subject dies quietly.

Edward had no desire to go so peacefully. Quietness had never really been his preference. His solution?

He screamed.

And screamed and screamed until he could no longer focus on anything at all.

He screamed out his anger at dying, the world, the Truth, and simply the whole bloody situation altogether.

The reds and oranges blended together, and he could no longer smell that sweet meadow.

The screaming stopped, but his ears continued to feed him the screeching.

This was it. It was time. The boy blinked once before his final breath slipped from his bloodied lips and his heart ceased its drumming song. His eyes still held their fire, and they seemed to dance with the flaming sky. Lightening exploded in the overcast located above his body, and thunder shook the ground as if mother nature herself was furious over the child's death. Rain pounded into the earth, blending with the blood, forming sickening swirls of departure.

The reds and the oranges were suddenly replaced with blues and black. The scent of the meadow replaced with subtle aftershave and smoke. The screaming started again, voices of different ranges and genders echoing off the towering mountain slopes.

One voice, one heartbeat, one soul was no longer present among the group.

Yes, Edward Elric knew death quite well indeed.

however, every equation has an opposite, every solution has a reciprocal, every side has an inverse. To know darkness means to know light. To know sorrow means to know happiness. To know suffering means to know surviving.

To know death, means to know life.

Edward Elric knew life quite well.

While he knew darkness, he knew light even better, and his fire burned on as he blinked awake a week or so later in his sterile hospital room, glancing out his window to spy the beautiful oranges and red of the sunrise. Edward couldn't resist the smile that crept onto his features as his eyes drifted closed once more. Playing with the devil, or god, or whatever you wanted to call it, seemed to have its benefits. Escaping death wasn't something he wished to have to continue to do, though he appeared to be getting increasingly better at it.

Yes, Edward Elric knew life quite well indeed. 


End file.
